


Keep Feeling

by JudeAraya



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-25
Updated: 2015-06-25
Packaged: 2018-04-06 03:10:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4205700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JudeAraya/pseuds/JudeAraya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the moment after they reunite, and the ones after that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keep Feeling

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to dontbefanci and damnpene, you both are lovely and wonderful and great enablers, cheerleaders, beta readers, and writers. Thank you both!
> 
> Written in February, I just forgot to post it!

When they break apart, Blaine pushes the front door shut with a bang then turns back into Kurt’s arms almost immediately.

“Blaine,” Kurt whispers, lips on his. It’s swallowed in another kiss; desperate and soft, vibrating with the intensity of what they don’t have words for. Kurt feels out of words, he’s used what he had to confess his love, to ask for Blaine back, and now his body aches to speak in other languages; some they’ve spoken before, with their bodies and touch, and some completely new.  

“I’ve missed you so much,” Blaine says back, bunching the fabric of Kurt’s shirt and vest at the back, pulling him further into the apartment with his arms wound tight. Kurt pulls back, bites his lip and takes breath. His eyes meet Blaine with candid fierceness.

“I can’t tell you how much– I…nothing felt right without you.”

“God I have so much to say,  _Kurt_ – I didn’t either. I mean, I could,” Blaine shakes his head, “That sounded wrong. I just want you to know, I’ve worked hard to understand that I don’t need you to define myself.” They’re still in the hallway, clutching each other so hard Kurt’s fingers ache. “I’m not saying this right.”

“No I think I understand,” Kurt whispers.He kisses Blaine in tender sips, deliberate, love filled kisses.

“Thank you Kurt,” Blaine says between the meeting of their mouths. “For coming, for loving–”

“Come to bed with me,” Kurt interrupts, speaking into the hollow of Blaine’s neck. “We should talk but–”

“Yeah, okay,” Blaine says, breathless. Two fingers slip under Kurt’s shirt and vest where they’re bunched up. They slide along his spine and the touch shivers up Kurt’s back and down to his fingers. They stumble into the bedroom, Kurt leaving his vest and Blaine’s bowtie on the floor just outside the door. Two steps after it Blaine’s shirt is on the floor as well. The bed is stripped but for sheets – there are boxes in here too. Kurt spares a thought for where Blaine might be headed, but then Blaine’s fingers are on his belt and he’s biting lightly at Kurt’s neck and his knees feel a few seconds from giving out under him.

“Come here, come here,” Kurt lays down, wiggles out of his pants and waits with his hands grabbing and tingling for Blaine’s body to lay on his. “Oh god, your skin,” he mumbles against Blaine’s lips, those palms sliding up Blaine’s body, from the lovely rounding of his full ass to his almost ticklish sides and up into his actually very ticklish armpits where the hair is soft against the pads of his fingers. Blaine squirms; there’s not a part of his body Kurt doesn’t want to touch. His dick and Blaine’s are so hard, trapped against bellies and rubbing against each other in frantic and uncoordinated jerks.

Blaine props himself up on both hands, eyes bright and wide. “Lube,” he manages to say, before rolling off of Kurt to fumble through a toiletry bag set on top of a box. It’s cold without him, and when he comes back to bed, Kurt curls onto his side, wrapping a leg around his hip and wrapping one arm around Blaine’s waist tightly enough to squeeze a gust of air from him.

“Let me,” Blaine says. He flips the lid of the lube up; everything is uncoordinated because Kurt doesn’t seem to want to let Blaine move even inches away, kissing any bits of skin he can. Blaine’s lube covered hand is a cold shock of its own, an electric storm of much missed pleasure from his cock, spiraling searing heat through his pelvis and lungs and fingers. There’s so much lube – too much maybe, it’s everywhere and it’s cold and Kurt could care less.

“Blaine,” Kurt lets his head fall back, eyes slamming shut and hips canting up. Blaine kisses Kurt’s chest, his nipples, one hip bone before Kurt chokes out, “Come up here please.” He’s undone with this need for closeness that’s not usual for him, and it aches. Blaine’s hand cups his balls, rolls them and Kurt  _wants_ , wants in a way that always feels dangerous, that makes him uncertain, shying away. It’s the swelling of vulnerability that’s almost always had him rolling Blaine onto his back, laying him out and taking him apart with pleasure.

Kurt is a work in progress, but he’s had months of introspection to work on the idea of vulnerability; not just to let himself treasure it as a gift he has to give, but one he  _wants_  to give. His body feels trembly and out of control when he covers Blaine’s wet hand with his, spreading his legs and sliding it down, his finger pressing one of Blaine’s against his hole.

“Kurt are you–”

“Kiss me,” Kurt’s voice shakes, mirroring his body, and he gasps into Blaine’s mouth when Blaine’s finger slides in. It takes only a few seconds for his body to acclimate, for the sensation of a dragging friction against his hole to spark with pleasure that coalesces in his pelvis. “More,  _please_.”

Blaine’s body stills and the hesitation behind that stillness clear. The last thing Blaine wants to do is hurt him, but Kurt’s hand on Blaine’s between his legs is sure. He moves it, collects the dripping excess of lube. Blaine pulls his middle finger almost all the way out; Kurt threads his fingers through Blaine’s, making a slippery hot mess of everything. He guides Blaine’s fingers back, resumes pressure and chants soft, almost inaudible begging words. He presses and takes a breath and moves Blaine’s finger and his own in into his body. It’s tight and hot and a little scary how vulnerable this intimacy makes him. He whines and it’s almost lost in Blaine’s surprised groan.

“It’s okay,” Blaine whispers against Kurt’s ear, stilling their fingers until Kurt feels his body acquiesce. “You’re okay honey.” Kurt opens his eyes, feeling the sting of tears in them, the slight burn where their fingers have started to slide in tandem. Blaine kisses away the one tear that escapes and Kurt spreads his legs further. Blaine gets one more finger in and the burn is a little brighter.

“Please, now,  _now,_ ” Kurt begs.

“Are you sure?” Blaine sounds a little anxious, a little desperate.

“Now,” Kurt says. He pulls a pillow under his hips while Blaine struggles with the condom and lubed fingers, finally tearing it open with his teeth and his clean hand. Blaine adds more lube while Kurt tries to calm his ratcheting breaths and the overwhelming need to be filled. He needs Blaine to take him apart until he can’t think or move unless Blaine does, leaving him with nothing he can do except expose his most private, vulnerable self.

Blaine pulls one leg up and kneels between them and guides his dick in slowly. Kurt works as hard as he can to not wince, because Blaine will stop and he can’t have that.

“I don’t want – I’m hurting you.” Blaine sees it anyway, or feels it in the vise-like grip of Kurt’s body.

“Come here,” Kurt says softly. Blaine’s cock slips in a bit more when he leans forward into Kurt’s arms. Kurt kisses him as tenderly as he can; he’s barely holding himself together. With one hand on Blaine’s cheek and their eyes connected, Kurt feels the precipice before him so close. For once, he wants it, to step over the edge, to trust Blaine to keep him safe. “Don’t stop, please.” He’s shaking hard now. Blaine’s eyes are so concerned, his body so still. “I want it. I want to feel this right now, and tomorrow and the day after that. And when it stops, I’m going to ask you to fuck me again, as hard as you can, so that I can keep feeling it, and you.”

“Kurt,” Blaine whispers. His hips start moving in tiny increments, a dance Kurt recognizes as a bodies necessary, blinding drive toward pleasure.

“You can,” Kurt rolls his hips up, “ _hard_. As hard as you want.”

Blaine draws out a little, then back in, again, with increasing speed and force. He has to move away from Kurt, spreading him open with one of Kurt’s legs cradled in the crook of his elbow. His other hand grips Kurt’s tightly against Kurt’s stomach and in the clasp of those fingers he feels held and connected. Kurt’s head is arched back and as hard as Blaine is fucking him, as pleasurable and painful and necessary as his movements into Kurt’s body are, Kurt begs for more.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” Blaine is whispering, pulling Kurt’s leg up and kissing inside his knee and it’s too much and so much and enough, Kurt feels so out of control and  _good_. He bites his lip and squeezes his eyes shut. He puts his leg over Blaine’s shoulder and Blaine takes his freed hand and cups it under Kurt’s ass, adjusting him and the angle, grunting with the effort of how hard he’s driving in. The new tilt of Kurt’s pelvis and his churning hips sends a rocket of bright, too bright and blinding pleasure through him. He comes, suddenly, moaning and crying a little, astonished, barely hearing Blaine’s own shocked moan, his stuttered “K-Kurt, oh– oh  _god,_ ” and the tiny flare of pain when Blaine turns his head and bites Kurt’s calf and comes, grinding into Kurt; coming and coming as Kurt is, intensely hard and long.

“Blaine,  _Blaine_ ,” Kurt whispers, helplessly shocked, against Blaine’s hair. Blaine’s temple is damp with sweat – their bodies are, everything is damp and he’s tingling, pins and needles and contentment and still, a little fear. Blaine pulls back to kiss him, and his thumbs sweep over Kurt’s cheekbones to gather tears.

With everything they’ve shared, and every promise Kurt has made, this is something so new, something deeper in Kurt’s core that he’s never exposed to anyone. The voice of his unspoken fears. Fear of being left, of being hurt, of letting himself love someone unfettered in the face of those risks.

“I love you so much,” Blaine whispers and his eyes are bright and hazel lovely, his body heavy on Kurt’s, making no effort to move. Kurt frames Blaine’s face with still unsteady hands and refuses to let his instinct to break eye contact win. He kisses Blaine as carefully as he can, then tucks Blaine into the crook of his neck, closes his eyes, and whispers everything he’s wished he’d said all along.

 


End file.
